Fatherstuff
by Bottlebrush
Summary: My interpretation of an event in Deathly Hallows. A way for SBRL shippers to come to terms with the book. This story will make more sense if read after “The Heart Has Its Reasons” to which it is a sequel. DH spoilers, implied slash.


Fatherstuff

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I don't own the Potterworld or its characters. J. K. Rowling does.

Summary: My interpretation of an event in Deathly Hallows, hence naturally spoilers. Sequel to "The Heart Has Its Reasons" and if you haven't read that story, this one may not make a lot of sense. Thanks to **Harpsiccord** for the word "fatherstuff", which I understand belonged originally to Walt Whitman, who is much too dead to sue me.

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"Dora, I've been thinking," Andromeda said slowly. "Would you mind very much if we scrapped most of the plans and made it a quiet wedding instead?"

"No, that's okay," her daughter replied cheerfully. "You know me, I wasn't that gone on the traditional style anyway. So what's caused the change?"

"Oh, it's just that – with things as they are – I think maybe it's best not to draw too much attention. Keep things low-key. When everything gets back to normal, we can have a real celebration."

"Suits me."

"You don't think Remus will mind?"

"Course not. Men don't bother about that sort of thing. In fact, he'll be glad."

"Good. I thought just Molly and Arthur, and Bill and Fleur if Bill's out of hospital by then, and a few friends of yours and Remus's."

"Perfect. I'll give you a list."

There were not many names on that list, and the small church was nearly empty when Remus and Tonks stood to make their promises to each other. Tonks wore a plain white dress, and Remus had been persuaded to accept new robes of forest green. Beside him stood his best man, Kingsley Shacklebolt, resplendent in deep crimson robes and with gold glinting in his ear. Some of those present, including the officiating clergyman, thought it rather a pity Tonks wasn't marrying Kingsley. Others, more knowledgeable, thought it a pity _Remus_ wasn't marrying Kingsley.

At the small private party in Ted and Andromeda's house, Ted stood up and rapped the table for attention. He was smiling broadly.

"Now it's my happy duty to tell you all that this wedding isn't the only good thing to happen to this family today," he said. "Some of you know that Andromeda has been ill for the past year. She had Nundu Syndrome."

The guests looked at each other: those who already knew about Andromeda's incurable illness with sadness; the others, to whom it came as a shock, with horror.

"But what nobody knew, not even me," Ted went on, "is that she has been taking part in secret trials of a new potion and with perfect timing, this very morning, word arrived from St Mungo's that her latest test proved negative. Andromeda is cured and can look forward to as long a life as anyone here."

Ted sat down amid loud applause. Andromeda stood, smiling and blushing.

"Thank you, everyone," she said. "And please forgive me for keeping the potion trials a secret. St Mungo's asked me to, and besides I didn't want to raise anyone's hopes in case the cure didn't work." She looked from Ted to Dora as she said that. Then she picked up her wine goblet. "And a toast. To the grandchildren I can now hope I'll live to see!"

As the guests all stood up and drank to the grandchildren, the bride and groom looked at each other in alarm. _Grandchildren?_

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"Grandchildren," Dora said, alone with her new husband.

"Don't worry," he replied. "She won't expect them immediately. Give it a couple of years, and –"

"Oh, but she _does_," Dora replied. "She told me, this afternoon. She said that having been seriously ill gave her a new perspective on things, she realised there's no point in waiting because what you're waiting for might never happen. And then with this war, when any of us could be killed any minute, she says we should make the most of all the time we have."

"Well, we'll just have to say we're trying and nothing's happening."

"But then she'd have us down to St Mungo's for tests and potions and all sorts, and the _questions_, it'll be so embarrassing……"

"What are you saying? We should give her what she wants?"

"Oh – er – no. No offence, Remus, but I really _really_ don't fancy….."

"None taken. Neither do I. Have you anyone else in mind, who might …. cooperate?"

"No. To be honest, I think I've rather gone off men altogether. The only person I actually fancy now is Hestia, and nobody ever got pregnant that way."

"Yes. I see. Well, it'll just have to be me, then. No, don't worry. There are ways. Have you heard of artificial insemination?"

"Muggle thing, isn't it? With spoons or something? Sounds a nasty messy business, but I suppose…."

"Nymphadora, are you a witch or not?"

"You mean there's a spell?"

"Certainly is. We need to get the date right. You figure out when's the best time of the month for you, and we'll have to get your parents out of the house." _I only hope it isn't the worst time of the month for me,_ he thought.

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"I worked it out," Dora said. "Today's my most fertile day, and Mum and Dad will both be out all afternoon."

"Excellent," said Remus. "Now forgive me, I have to ask you a rather personal question. Are you a virgin?"

Dora went slightly red. "No," she said.

"Fine. It makes a difference to the spell I have to use, you see. Not yours, that would be the same in either case. So, just strip off below the waist, and lie on the bed. I'll be in the next room, with the doors open. Keep your wand to hand, and be ready to cast your spell as soon as you hear mine."

"Got it."

"Good. It'll take me a few minutes to get – er – ready. Try not to fall asleep."

In the adjoining room, Remus removed his trousers and underpants, and picked up his favourite photograph of Sirius, the unclothed one.

"Sorry to make use of you like this, love," he said. "But it's in a good cause, and it's better than the alternative."

He shuddered as he thought of the alternative, then he lay back and gave himself up to erotic fantasies mingled with sweet memories. _Now_. He dropped the photograph and took himself in hand, stroking, squeezing, urging himself on. _Yes, yes, oh Sirius….Sirius.…fuck... _

He retained enough control to remember to shout _"Teleprogenitor!" _at the right moment. He heard Dora's answering call of _"Accio Fatherstuff!"_

It was done.

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"We shouldn't have done it. Terrible mistake," Remus said with a groan.

"Now who's being a grumpy old werewolf?" Dora asked briskly, pouring out the morning coffee.

"That's just it, isn't it? I'm a werewolf. The baby will be a werewolf."

"Don't be silly. Werewolves aren't born, they're bitten. Newt Scamander says…"

"I know what Scamander says. He doesn't know everything. I know more about werewolves than he's forgotten. I mean….well, anyway, it could be one. And you'd be ostracised, the mother of a beast – I remember what my mother went through, after I was bitten. It was hell for her. And your parents…."

"My parents are delighted. They've always wanted a grandchild. I told them, if you want a grandchild so much, you should have had more children yourselves, but…."

"For God's sake stop babbling, Dora. They don't want a werewolf grandchild any more than they want a werewolf son-in-law."

"They're okay with what you are. They like you. I told you that before."

"You're wrong. They're being nice, they're decent civilised people, but I know what they really think deep down. I don't blame them. We should never have got married, and we certainly shouldn't be having this baby."

"So what do you want? Do you want me to abort it? Shall I take my wand and point it at my belly and kill it? Is that what you want?"

"No, of course it isn't!"

Dora ran from the room. Remus followed, and found her being sick in the bathroom. She raised her head and wiped her mouth.

"Nice, isn't it? I'm probably going to be sick every morning for the next three months, so get used to it or get out!"

"Right, I will!"

They stood glaring at each other. Neither could have told which of them was the first to change their expression to a shamefaced, half-hearted smile, but Remus was first to apologise.

"I'm sorry. Truly sorry. The last thing I want is to upset you. And I want this baby, but I don't want you to be hurt, and I'm so afraid you will be."

"I'm sorry too. I think we're both a bit overwrought. I didn't mean all I said. And if the baby _is_ a werewolf, it couldn't have a better father. You'll know just how to take care of it."

"Thank you, Dora. But I can't help worrying."

"Oh I know _that_. You could as soon stop breathing as stop worrying. The original worryguts. But to be honest, I think we could both do with a bit of space. It's a stressful situation, stuck here in my parents' house, we've got no privacy, and….I think you should go away for a while."

"Go? Where?"

"I don't know. Couldn't the Order find you something to do? I'll be okay here with my parents, and after the baby's born you can come back and we'll see about getting a place of our own."

_Harry,_ he thought. "I could go and join Harry. He's off on some mission with just the other two kids, they need somebody more experienced with them."

"That's a great idea. We'll keep in touch."

_Harry. My ex-student, my friend. He'll be so pleased to see me, and glad to have me along. I'll be doing something useful at last, doing my bit to make the world a better and safer place for our child to grow up in. _

**A/N: **That's all there is of this story. If you've read the book, you'll know what happened next, and what sort of reception Remus got from Harry. It's too depressing to write about.


End file.
